Lonely Angels
by onlymystory
Summary: Stiles is there when his mother dies.


It's very late that night at the hospital, when a nurse comes in to tell them there was an accident and Deputy Stilinski is there and won't be back until late. Claudia Stilinski thanks her for the information, requests that her son be allowed to stay.

The nurse nods, makes a comment about the innocence of children, and leaves after administering the latest round of medication.

Stiles clings to his mother's hand and won't let go because she says she needs her strong boy with her right now.

He understands more than the nurses think he does. His mother is dying. Not in the way she has been for months now, but in the way that explains why they aren't making him leave even though visiting hours were over a long time ago and why the new nurse with the brown hair brought him a Sprite while he's sitting there.

But Stiles doesn't understand either. He doesn't understand why his mommy has to be in the hospital when she's a good person. She cuts his sandwiches to look like Batman signals and lets him win at chess even though he's not very good and she taught him that pancakes and kisses always go together.

There are lots of bad people in the world, people his daddy puts in jail, and it seems like one of them should be here instead.

"I love you baby," whispers Claudia, her voice raspy with disuse.

Stiles tilts his head up, eyes widening when he sees her awake. "Mommy?"

She's too weak to tug him up, but she makes a motion anyway. "Come sleep by me. I need you close right now."

He clambers up, careful not to jostle the wires and tubes, he's been here often enough to know better, and curls his small body against her. Stiles' hand reaches out to hold onto Claudia's, his head resting on her shoulder. He moves ever so slightly and presses a tender kiss to her cheek. "I love you, momma."

"I love you too, precious." Her hand strokes his hair. "Never forget that, okay baby? Mommy will always love you, even if I can't always be there to tell you."

"I know, mommy." Stiles' voice shakes. "Are you going to be with the angels?"

Claudia's eyes fill with tears and her own voice quivers as she answers. "I think so. They seem to want me to keep them company. Will you help me take care of your daddy when I'm gone?" She can feel his head nod against her shoulder, Stiles' wet cheeks against her fingertips. "I promise."

She holds on as long as she can, listening to her son breathing steadily. He's not asleep, but he's peaceful, and she's glad for his sake. There's a last hope that her husband will make it back in time for this. They've said their goodbyes too many times to count, but there's something about the final one. But in the end, her body is too weak to hold on long enough.

Claudia slips away like so many others, with a final rattling breath, that last ditch effort to cling to a life already gone.

The night nurse is busy with a sudden swarm of car crash victims-Beacon Hills has a limited staff at this hour-and so no one sees the monitors showing the fading of a heartbeat.

Stiles kisses his mother's cheek and soaks the shoulder of her hospital gown with his tears, falling asleep in his grief. He wakes an hour later with a chill, not realizing for several moments that it's caused by the cold hand still clasped between his little fingers. He doesn't want to leave her, but he thinks someone should get her a blanket, so Stiles slowly lets go and climbs off the bed, sock feet padding down the hall to the nurses' station.

It's all a bit confusing from there. People are in her room and the new nurse is still there, holding him on her lap and saying things like "gone" and "better place" and words that Stiles doesn't think mean what she thinks they do.

His dad is there too though, but he's crying, and that's how Stiles knows for sure that his mother is dead, because his daddy only cries when he's very, very sad.

He falls asleep in the chair at the nurses' station, not noticing his dad pick him up and buckle him into the car, or how he's carried into the house that feels so empty. It's felt this way for months, but it moves now from empty to desolate, the light that filled it on permanent leave.

Stiles wakes up again while it's still dark outside, the numbers on his alarm clock saying 4:30am. He makes his way down to his parents' room, only to see that no one's there and trips over the stairs in his panic. Stiles rubs his arm where it hit the railing and finds his dad in the living room, slumped over on the couch, bottle of whiskey at the tips of his fingertips.

Stiles carefully picks up the bottle so it won't spill anymore, putting the cap on with shaky fingers and setting it on the coffee table. He sets a pillow under his dad's head and finds the blanket his mother made to pull over him. Stiles' hand reaches out and pets his father's hair, trying to be as soothing as his mother was. "Daddy?"

A snore is his only answer. Stiles keeps stroking. "It's okay, Daddy. I promised Mommy I'd take care of you. I'll keep you safe."

Stiles stays until his hand gets tired, and then he goes back upstairs. The open door to his parents' room bothers him, like it's inviting someone to come in when there's no one to use it, so he walks a little further to shut it. The light he'd left on shows his dad's clothes on the floor and Stiles wonders why his mother didn't put them away like normal before he remembers.

His body doesn't seem to know what to do after that, shaking violently and making it hard to breathe and he slides down against the door, his hands gripping the carpet, eyes wide and confused.

When it finally stops, Stiles crawls across the room and into the bed. He burrows his head into his dad's pillow, cradling the one that smells like his mother in his arms and falls back asleep. His last thought before sleep is that the angels must have been very lonely to have such a need to take his mommy away.


End file.
